


Chaos

by dusk_dreamer_midnight_thief (aurora_ophiuchus)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Astronomy, Female Character of Color, Female Friendship, Hogwarts, Hogwarts Professors, Other, Study of Ancient Runes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-29
Updated: 2017-04-29
Packaged: 2018-10-25 06:15:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10758423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aurora_ophiuchus/pseuds/dusk_dreamer_midnight_thief
Summary: Friendship between witches should never be taken lightly...





	Chaos

Many nights they would sit in silence together.

 

It was the kind of silence she never thought would be possible with a friend. But Lhoridi was no ordinary friend.

 

She had come to Hogwarts an outcast, much like Aurora herself. An outcast with a most uncomfortable sensation eating away at the back of her skull: that her true, most powerful source of magic would never be realised, because it had slowly been beaten out of her through the years.

 

Correct pronunciation of spells. The most accurate of angles of the wand. _School_ textbooks claiming the only way one could become a true witch was _their_ way.

 

Aurora had never bought it… but then she had seen more, done more, and hurt more underneath the gift and the curse that was magic - more than most of her contemporaries would do in a lifetime.

 

And so, when Lho had once again returned through those heavy castle doors, the Astronomy mistress had felt nothing but relief in finding a kindred spirit. The witches had taken one look at each other and they _knew…_ they recognised the chaos behind each other’s eyes, the beauty of anarchy and madness and mess. How it was not something to be stamped out or branded savage, but something to harness.

 

They had their differences, no doubt. It was perhaps what made them closer in the end. Astronomy, even in the wizarding world, was still regarded as a harsh science full of precise calculations, numbers, equations and unbreakable logic. The fact that she could be so systematic and chaotic all at once remained a conundrum only to those who did know her. Lhoridi understood finer balances, that disciplined chaos was not some unsolvable paradox: she worked with ancient languages and symbols and art, after all, she knew there were elemental _rules_ of witchcraft… but she knew also how to bend them to her will.

 

They would sit in silence. Lho would sometimes scribe and Rora would sometimes toy with the focus on her golden instruments… but most of the time they would read. Every so often one would quip something amusing, usually a deriding comment, about something ridiculous their eyes had scanned on an outdated, dusty page. The other would offer a light snicker and comment they really _should_ get down to rewriting all the books in the Hogwarts library. Then the comfort of silence would enclose them again.

 

The chances of finding someone like Lho: a witch similar in age, talent, philosophies, and a Slytherin no less (Aurora could not _accept_ any less) was not something that had ever entered her mind. It was a kind of safety and comfort she never afforded herself before – having a best friend. And over the years of drinking in each other’s quarters on Friday nights, joint eye rolling behind the backs of certain inept members of staff, silent but knowing smiles and late night walks through the grounds in their winter cloaks… Aurora could not fathom how, at one point in her life, her Lho had not been there.

 

Oh, they would never stay Ancient Runes and Astronomy professors forever: they were far too ambitious and restless for a hundred years of servitude. But for now they remained anchors to each other; knowing, perhaps in a rather childish fashion, that no matter what happened to the world around them or however far apart they drifted physically – there would always be an occasional tug at that chain, calling them back home.

 

Two witches. Silent in their disciplined chaos, aching with secret hurt they need never verbalise.

 

Two anchors. Reading and stargazing and surviving together as the nights grew colder.  


End file.
